The Sea of Abaco is a long, shallow channel running roughly 60 nautical miles north-east of Marsh Harbour, bounded on the ocean side by a chain of low-lying barrier cays — Elbow, Man-O-War, Great Guana, Treasure, Green Turtle.
Those cays do the work of a breakwater. The reach inside stays calm even when the Atlantic is up; depths are honest at 8 to 18 feet; and the bottom is sand and turtle grass, not coral heads. It's one of the most forgiving cruising grounds in the Caribbean.
From Marsh Harbour, every named anchorage is inside a day-sail. Most are inside a morning's sail. The hardest decision of the week is which order to do them in.
There are dozens of anchorages in the Sea of Abaco — Manjack alone holds half a dozen. These are seven to start you off. A typical week strings four or five together, none more than an hour or two from the next, so the calendar is yours — chase the wind, the weather, or whoever's playing live music that evening.
The candy-striped lighthouse, pastel cottages on a hillside, Firefly's sundowner deck, and one of the prettiest harbours in the Bahamas. Almost everyone's first stop.
A working boatbuilding settlement, dry (BYO) and quietly traditional. The sailmaker at Albury's is still hand-stitching canvas bags people have been buying for forty years.
Seven miles of empty beach on the ocean side, Nipper's pink-and-blue bar perched above it. Sunday pig roast if you time the week right.
Yes, the swimming pigs — but on the Abaco side, with fewer day-trippers than Exuma. Anchor off the beach, dinghy in with a bag of vegetables, leave a little quieter.
A 3-mile crescent of fine white sand, often listed among the best beaches in the world. Protected harbour, ample mooring, easy provisioning.
New Plymouth — the oldest Loyalist settlement in Abaco — and the Goombay Smash, invented at Miss Emily's. The northernmost anchorage on most itineraries.
A low-tide sandbar at the south tip of Elbow Cay — pink sand, knee-deep water that runs for a quarter mile, and Thirsty Cuda floating off the shoal pouring rum punches.
Pelican Cays. Sandy Cay reef. Tilloo Pond. The Bight of Old Robinson. Ask the captain — there's always one more spot.
Marsh Harbour is the only town in the Abacos that feels like a town — grocery stores, fuel, a hospital, an airport, customs. We're based at Conch Inn at the heart of it, sheltered inside the Marsh Harbour Boatyard basin.
Every boat in the fleet sails from this dock, is maintained on this dock, and is handed back to this dock. The team you meet at check-in is the team that's been preparing your boat for the week.
The marina has its own pool, the Conch Crawl bar two slips down, and the Jib Room a short walk away — civilised first and last nights, no matter what time your flight lands.
Marsh Harbour International (MHH) is a small airport with daily connections to South Florida and seasonal nonstops from a handful of US hub cities. The runway is paved, the terminal is one room, and your taxi is waiting outside.
From the gate to the boat is usually under an hour — including immigration, customs, a stop for groceries, and the drive to Conch Inn.
Eleven catamarans, one quiet sea, and a team that's been running it from this dock for years. We'll match your dates to the boats that suit your party.